


words on my mind - a collection of poetry

by NicodiA22



Category: Original Work
Genre: I hope you like it, but not really, check it out?, its kinda sorta cool, like one word, so this is some of my poetry, soooo, theres a bit of profanity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-01-30 14:01:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12654978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NicodiA22/pseuds/NicodiA22
Summary: what the title says. a flurry of words and thoughts and memories, all wrapped into one.





	1. different

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! so this is my first little *coughs* original work. It's just some stuff I've written and I'm pretty happy with it. Hope you guys enjoy it! Happy reading :)

she sits on the damp grass,  
and reaches out to touch the wispy mist.   
the gold of the sun illuminates her frail features,   
and brings warmth into those sunken cheeks.   
She stares up to the bright clouds;   
Lost in a world so sweet.   
Pushing out of her stupor, she sinks back into reality.   
Only to fall back into the clutches of pastel skies and golden hues.   
The fine droplets of water cling to her,   
Clutching the only human in sight.   
Alone; she is alone.   
And she is okay.   
Frail and lonely and different   
And yet, okay.

 

 


	2. A New Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second one :) Hope you enjoy

Dawn makes a painting out of the sky;

Petals smeared across the vast canvas at first light.

The sun rises, awakening from its slumber,

Bathing the world in gold, setting it afire.

Colours swirl and mingle, streaking the atmosphere.

Particles push around in the wind, 

glinting in the warmth of the sun, turning into gold flecks.

Morning’s first frost settles and scatters on the dewy grass

The birds start chirping.

_ A new day _

They say, singing their words, waking the world around them.

_ A new day _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think if you please :)


	3. Cold

Wrapping my body like a blanket  
It seeps into my bones  
Coiling around my tendons  
Rushing through my bloodstream  
Suffocating me; freezing me  
With no sun to warm me up  
-cold


	4. Autumn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a little fall spirit

Gold and red leaves cling to the branches,

the tree burning in the cold wind.

A gust gathering the fallen bits off the ground

and into an orange whirlwind of thoughts and chill.

The sun peeked out from behind the grey sky,

Casting a light on the dewy morning grass.

Except for the hard wind and rustling,

All is silent.

_ -autumn  _


	5. The Art of Reading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this one is special :)

Outside it’s cold;

A gust blanketing the night with a chill.

The moon lights up the darkness, a flashlight for the lost ones.

Inside, it’s warm.

Curled up in a cocoon of comforters, 

Wrapped up in more ways than one; 

Lost in a world so hard to exit

But so easy to enter.

And yet, grounded to the same spot on the bed.

_ -the art of reading _


	6. what perfection means to me

She sat in a field

Watching the sun rise.

The mist clung to her clothes

And she shivered; a shaking mass on the ground.

But she was so happy that day,

for she had finally understood her worth.

With flowers blooming in her head

Jean pockets overflowing with dreams

And stars lighting her eyes.

With paintings of her accomplishments and failures

adorning the walls of her body.

A swirling nebula of thoughts and hopes and feelings

She was complicated.

She was wise.

She was young.

She was hopeful.

She was smart.

And she is reflected in anyone who grows to love oneself

Because she is the epitome of perfection.

After all, perfection isn’t superficial

It is valuing yourself.

_ \- what perfection means to me _


	7. Opposites

He knew him inside out

Better than he knew himself

He could go to the ends of the earth for that boy.

And he would do the same.

He was calm, the gentle waves crashing on the shore.

He was aggressive, the rolling wind shaking trees violently.

And yet, when they melded, they simmered down to a single being.

The depiction of love.

They didn’t have enough time.

Death claimed them before happiness could.

They continued to reach for each other but never touched; 

Like constellations.

A cosmic inferno of passion.

And a wilting flower weeping from deep sorrow.

Opposites.


	8. Unconventional

He was shadows.

He was light.

He was closed off.

He was kind.

They needed the other more than they needed anyone else.

The fused into something bigger than them combined.

Unexpected to say the least 

But they brought out the best in each other.


	9. Complicated Love

If I were blind and he was the light

I would still be able to find him in the darkness behind my eyes.

If I were deaf and he was music

I would find him, feeling every object for the right vibration.

If I were paralyzed and he was the ocean, calling me with his waves

I would crawl into the water just for a sensation in my numb legs.

I was the earth and he was the sea

Both unrestrained.

Both alone.

But when we unite

The world will burn so bright

That both of us will burn up 

At the sight of the other.

But we’ll be smiling the whole time.

_ -complicated love _


	10. The Trouble with Communication

Shrouded in a mist of confusion;

Making it hard to communicate

despite the voice I was born with.

How is it that even with the ability to speak, 

see and hear, we can’t convey the message

we desperately need to.

I’ve asked that question many times.

With each time comes increasing frustration 

And even little answers.

_ -the trouble with communication _


	11. Glow

Turquoise smeared across

the lower half of the sky;

lit by the rising sun.

As the sky went higher

So did the hues, reaching a fiery red.

Particles mingled with mist and wind 

Scattering magic

Over frosty grass and roofs of houses

In which people sleep;

Unaware of the morning glow.


	12. Thunderstorms

 

Water glazed the view in a slick coating

The rain falling continuously.

The clouds formed a thick grey sheet of moisture.

Thunder rumbled and shook the ground;

A demand for darkness.

Bright light shot sporadically through the sky - 

Nature’s light show.

Lightning zoomed through the air, 

electrifying the atmosphere.

It laced and wrapped the picture

Tying a ribbon on this gift.

_ -thunderstorms _


	13. drugs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> probably a little inaccurate

Spinning.

Their heads caught in a frenzy of sensation

Lost in a place so bizarre,

It only exists in their minds.

Sweating and aching happily,

Churning and burning inside.

And yet, numb.

_ -drugs _


	14. The Art of Fighting

Blades cut through the sky; 

slicing ribbons into the air.

Fighters dance in the night

Spinning and shifting like currents of water;

Swift and graceful.

Metal strips glint in the moonlight,

Littering the ground in shards of silver.

The smell of copper tinges the air;

Rusted swords and blood mingling.

Perspiration clings to them 

despite the chill in the night.

The grass weighed down with rubble

And dead bodies.

_ -the art of fighting _


	15. Sunsets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the last chapter for now. I have a few prompts that interest me and if you'd like, feel free to give me some feedback or ideas. Enjoy :)

The sun burns red

A blazing inferno burning the world around it.

The sky around it tames the fire

Sparkling blue and deep violet mingling

Beginning a conversation about their day.

The pink joins soon after; a blush so intense 

It feels as though someone took a rose 

And dragged it across the canvas that is the sky.

The sun’s temper dissipated; turned gold.

Bathed in the fractured rainbow of colours,

The city lights twinkled amidst the hues.

The sun dipped back into earth; 

The moon rose. Pale and smooth.

Night came rushing in, the colour of midnight velvet.

Enrobing the atmosphere in darkness, snuffing out the stars.

Leaving the moon alone; a lone light.

_ -sunsets  _


	16. Home

Entering brings a flurry of memories rushing in.

Of laughter and tv shows and food and family.

Breathing in the scent brings comfort and familiarity,

Greeting me with open arms, beaming.

Walking up the creaking stairs, avoiding that one loud step,

Reminiscing about the times I spent sneaking around.

Dragging the heavy curtains open, bringing in light and dispersing collecting dirt.

Laying on the bed I spent my whole life on, I breathe deeply.

Even though I’m alone right now, there once was a family 

Which resided in this place I call

_ Home. _


	17. routine

_ Tuesday _

Wake up. Brush your teeth. Shower.

Go to school. Learn. Come home.

Do homework. Read. Sleep.

_ Wednesday _

Wake up. Brush your teeth. Shower.

Go to school. Learn. Come home.

Do homework. Read. Sleep.

_ Routine _ is being stuck in a limbo 

Of actions and phrases and states of mind.

_ Routine _ is being bored but being content in safety.

_ Routine  _ is screaming from frustration because

Your life has become a series of copied-and-pasted days.

Over and over and  _ over _ .

But you go back to it;

Live with it.

Because outside these frustrating but safe boundaries

Lays uncharted territory more frightening than frustration and boredom.


	18. time

I don’t think we have enough of it.

But sometimes it goes by too slowly.

This paradoxical concept boggles the minds of many

One being mine.

See, the thing is,

I hate the way people spend it.

Instead of appreciating what’s around them,

They fight.

They bicker.

They take it for granted.

Why do they deserve such a luxury?

Why don’t they spend it doing what they _enjoy_?

Yet, they waste it,

And watch their whole lives go by,

Passing them like a speeding train.

_-time (is of the essence)_


	19. bloom

Deep inside,

In the dark depth of their soul,

Something sprouts from the black dirt of their thoughts.

It starts small and tiny; barely recognizable as its true form.

But with the nurturing it receives, it thrives,

Becoming a well-formed thought.

They feed it sunlight and water,

And the thought blooms

Into a part of that person;

A strand of their being,

One of their roots,

All together forming a forest 

inside each and every one of us.

_ -aren’t we all blooming? _


	20. hands and bright stars

Clasped together, they leave no space for anything

But their connection.

The grazing of knuckles,

The brushing of fingertips.

Grasping at clothing,

Twisting rings around their fingers.

Running them through thick locks,

Ghosting over eyes and lips,

Holding cheeks and tugging at waists.

Wiping away tears.

Clutching each other;

As though they were the only stars

to light up the dark sky

And they thought

That if they merged together,

Perhaps they could form a brighter light.

_-hands and bright stars_


	21. scent

 

Breathing it in,

He feels a rush of emotions;

Safety, comfort, love, happiness,  _ him _ .

So, he pulls him closer,

Locks his body against his, 

Molding and merging with his very soul.

_ You are what home smells like _


	22. music

The sounds leave a ringing in the atmosphere,

Piercing the tired silence.

Bringing a flurry of something so . . . _ peculiar _ .

All of a sudden,

Everything is in colour.

Vivid hues rush in and out,

Running rampant,

Mingling with the melodies,

Joining the party.

You notice the commotion,

Peeking through the door,

Your lips tug upwards at the sight.

And you walk in,

And dance.

_ -the effect music has on me _


	23. emotions and laughter

Rising.

Building.

Climbing.

Growing higher and higher,

Forming a crescendo

So melodious and content. 

Happy and delirious.

So frighteningly intense.

_ -emotions and laughter _


	24. comparisons

Why is it that I love myself  
But when I see something remotely nicer,  
My esteem crumbles?  
Why is it that I cannot appreciate my strengths,  
My weaknesses, myself  
For who I am?  
Why must I believe that I am not good enough,  
When I am clearly the best person I’ve met?  
Why do I feel pitiful towards myself?  
Why do I need to compare myself to others,  
When clearly,   
We are not the same.  
-comparisons


	25. silence.

I realized

I have nothing to hide. 

Except for my emotions.

For the things that go unspoken,

Are the ones which matter

The most

_ -silence _


	26. late night sorrow

I can see why people eat ice cream

When they’re sad.

It’s fun to drown your pain

With cold, sweet dessert.

At least you forget about 

Your tear-choked throat and

Dry eyes and

Muddled mind.

_ -late night sorrow _


	27. my problem

I feel fortunate that nothing’s wrong with me.

But i almost wish there were.

So i could blame my faults

On something other than my

Shitty personality.

_ -my problem _


	28. what's left of us

We both end up broken

Scrambling to pick up the broken shards

Of our feelings.

_ I didn't mean to, I didn't want to. _

But I know it's my fault,

and you needed to be told,

So why do I feel so bad?

The fragment I pick up off of the ground drips blood

My eyes are tired of crying, they're puffy and dry.

The ripped jeans dig into my legs, leaving imprints.

My glasses are smudged and blurry.

I'm exhausted and terrified and angry and indifferent and upset and 

happy and  _ overwhelmed _ .

This is the aftermath.


	29. Actually, I know

I think 

I'm the problem.

_ -actually, I know. _


	30. I'm so dependant

Don't give me false hope.

Don't whisper sweet nothings.

Don't give me empty promises.

I swear I'll believe them

and then I'll be left broken

while you walk on,

Unbothered.

_ -I'm so dependant _


	31. I hate it

Why is it

that even when people offer to listen,

My mouth is sewn shut

From years of silence.

_ -I hate it _


	32. warmth

We lay in bed.

The door shut,

Blocking out all the noise

And problems.

Inside the warmth,

Safety is found.

Underneath the blanket, legs are intertwined.

And tired souls are content.


	33. 2018

This is the path.   
The one which will lead to happiness;   
Or indifference,   
I can’t tell yet.   
I just hope it’s one filled with peace.   
Because I’ve had it   
With the struggles   
And stress   
And issues.   
So,   
I hope this path brings something else,   
For a change.   
I hope the atmosphere   
Is safe   
And treats me right.   
_ -2018 _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is the picture inspo :) https://78.media.tumblr.com/1694434f1e95aee01d82f34e35c546d8/tumblr_o5fnsmzKkS1rluscpo1_1280.jpg
> 
> also, i'm starting a poetry blog with a friend if you wanna check it out. if you'd like details, you could check out my tumblr: https://afellowslytherindemigod.tumblr.com/


	34. untitled

this is not the first time I’ve written about this.

but I think I got it right this time.

here goes:

you are not home.

you are my favourite book.

you are the candles on my bookshelf.

you are my bed.

you are the ring on my index finger.

you are the fake plant in that one corner.

you are my headphones.

you are everything i need.

so why aren’t you home?

because i am my own home.

i am my place of residence.

i am my own ambience. 

you aren’t what completes me, what makes me whole;

for i accomplish that perfectly well myself.

but you are everything that matters.

_ -s.p _

**Author's Note:**

> So, I hope you liked that. If you'd like to talk, I'm afellowslytherindemigod on Tumblr so if you would like to get in touch, feel free to say hi! Also, thank you for reading this, it really does mean a lot :D


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